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“Um…interesting,” Nash finally said. “But what about the vortex?”
I blinked. Wait. What?
I waved at the wall. “You don’t feel it?”
He frowned. “Feel what?”
I crossed my arms. Was he kidding?
“The vortex.” I didn’t finish with,you idiot,but I was tempted to.
“It’s here?”
I pointed to the spiral, and he reached for it. I yelped in warning, but—
I stared as he moved his hand over, then around the spiral. The whole time, his expression didn’t change.
I reached out, wondering if the vortex had cut out.
“Whoa,” Nash said as my hand was thrust back, nearly smacking his nose.
“It’s blasting out of the rock,” I said. “You don’t feel it?”
He tried again — carefully at first, then less so. Finally, he tilted his head. “You’re not kidding me, are you?”
“No, I am not kidding you.” Grabbing his hand, I held it toward the spiral, interlacing my fingers with his.
And,bang!I yelped again, because this blast was even more powerful — enough to make me stumble. Nash nearly toppled over, and I ended up smacked against his chest. He braced his legs and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, balancing us both.
A split second of embarrassment ensued, followed by a silent, all-body sigh. Gee, did that feel good. Scary-good, like we’d been made to fit that way.
I stayed there many, many seconds longer than I had to, relishing the feeling. Nash didn’t seem in any hurry to move either, and time slowed to a crawl. My zone of focus shrank, blurring out the cliff, the breeze, and the deepening hues of evening. All I felt was the warmth of his body and the soft puff of his breath on my shoulder.
And, heck. We might have stayed there all night if Roscoe hadn’t come by, crashing through the bushes after a jackrabbit.
Clearing my throat, I stepped away from Nash and the vortex.
“You seriously didn’t feel that?” I asked. Then I turned pink. I’d meant the vortex, but the words could just as easily refer to touching — and that feeling ofYou belong to me, with me.
He faced the rock wall. Out of genuine interest, or was he avoiding my gaze?
“I didn’t feel a thing.”
I swear, my feelings weren’t hurt.
Then it hit me. If he meant the vortex…
I frowned. “Am I the only one who can feel it, or am I imagining things?”
“What about your sisters?” he asked.
I thought it over, then shrugged. “Honestly, we never talk about it. But we all know it’s here, because my great-aunt brought us over to warn us not to get close.”
Nash studied the rock art a moment longer, then turned his gaze on me. “Well, that proves one thing.”
I was afraid to ask, but I did. “What?”
“You’re no relic, Erin. You’re a lot more.”
